


error 403

by orphan_account



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Blood and Violence, Character Death, Crimes & Criminals, Death, Fluff and Angst, Horror, I’m sorry for putting them through this, M/M, Murder, Paranoia, Park Jisung (NCT) is Whipped, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Stressed Zhong Chen Le, Zhong Chen Le Needs a Hug, chensung are scared, like lots of violence um, protective!jisung
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:21:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24809923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "lele... i'm scared.”being frightened by your own shadow is exhausting— especially when your shadow is trying to eat you alive. in a strange and unfamiliar world, zhong chenle has no choice but to befriend the only other “normal” person in sight (whom he finds exceptionally adorable, by the way.) the two are thrown into a terrifying enigma that requires a bit more blood on their hands than either are used to.alternatively, chenle and jisung are stuck in a game of kill or be killed.(i couldn’t find any chensung horror so here we are)
Relationships: Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le
Comments: 11
Kudos: 31





	1. INTRO

**Author's Note:**

> only the introduction will be in lowercase
> 
> enjoy !!

"pipe down or we're dead!"

"I'm sorry, I can't do this. I just want to go home... please..." chenle cries, crouched next to the boy lodged in between the shelves. tears begin to roll over his pale cheeks as he gazes down hesitantly at the list jisung is offering him. with that, he can't hold back the whines he had previously restricted.

jisung immediately slaps a hand over the older's mouth, muffling the already quiet noises of dread. his hand still reeks of blood. and soon, chenle's own will possess the same scent.

"lele, listen to me." he says, expression hardening as he grasps the crowbar in his hand tightly. fluorescent lights hanging above the pair start to flicker, and jisung is forced to push harder on chenle's face as the sobs continue to fall from his blabbering lips. "it's either him or us. I don't like this any more than you do."

jisung was right. jisung was somehow— always right. these are the rules, and they can either cooperate or choose to be punished accordingly.

chenle is about to speak in agreement when the shadow of a stocky man becomes clear in his peripheral vision. jisung's focus also switches to the stranger, and then at chenle with longing eyes. he holds out their weapon of choice.

there's no backing out now.

as silently as physically possible, chenle ignores the walls closing in around him while he stands up, bent over to only half of his size. he waits for the perfect moment to strike— which he decides is when the guy in the large coat turns around to look at a display of keychains by the front register. 

he doesn't know what's coming for him.

the boy's life— or what he thinks is such— flashes before his eyes as he runs forward, swinging the piece of steel above him and ramming it with full force into the subject's head.

and he falls to the ground below, instantly spilling the thick, crimson liquid from his new wound with a gut wrenching wail. chenle stands over him, heart beating against his rib cage so loudly that he's sure it's going to crack. he doesn't even receive a second to process his actions when there's a tight clasp around his wrist, and jisung is breaking out into a sprint.

rule two is that they can't get caught.

nobody can know who chenle and jisung are.

except for him, who is constantly watching.


	2. START

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chenle is bad at games

"I'm literally going to kill you!"

Chenle screams at his television across the dark bedroom, game controller in hand. The only source of light allowing him to see is the illuminating screen— which displays that the poor boy has indeed, lost this round (and coincidentally, every round before that.) He huffs and reaches for the remote, shutting down the device as the room returns to a chilling, pitch black. 

In all honesty, Chenle is terrible at games. No matter how hard he tries, he just can't grasp the same concepts that even many children are capable of nowadays. It was embarrassing when he'd meet up with his younger relatives and challenge them to a match, only to receive a crushing defeat. He's that hopeless.

Standing up and dragging his feet against the cold floor below, Chenle turns on a few lights before he pads into the kitchen in search of his dinner— or late night snack, rather. His lifestyle is strikingly unhealthy, as observed by the various empty cans of soda sprawled over his apartment and the hoodie covering his thin frame that hasn't been washed in probably all of two weeks. It doesn't stink though, as he's sure to only wear it when relaxing. Despite what his friends would have expected, Chenle lives like a pig. 

Ripping open the pantry and scanning for some instant noodles, Chenle is startled when he sees a shadow move just outside his front door. He freezes with the small package in his hand, eyes glued to the outline on the pale wall.

The night scared Chenle.

A college student and young man who should be able to handle things on his own— is the same boy who swiftly darts under his covers when turning off his bedroom light. But what can he say? The dark was spooky. It was one of the main reasons he accepted a roommate. He doesn't even need the halved rent— he could more than compensate for the entire bill on his own— but he hates being left by himself.

The head of blackened hair ducks behind the dining room table where Chenle silences his breathing. He doesn't know who or what was residing outside these walls, but he isn't willing to take any chances on becoming a target today. So he hides.

He feels himself grow faint when the door juts open slightly, revealing a crack between Chenle's humble abode and the deep midnight awaiting him. Terrified of what'a to come, ramen is now occupying the last slot of priorities in his mind. What if it turns out to be a robber? Or worse— what if he has a gun?

Chenle is too young to die.

He is also dramatic.

This is a usual routine for Chenle. Most of the time, his fears would be in vain and the suspected intruder would only be the boy he lived with, but he can never be certain. Nobody can.

You can never feel too safe, because that's when you're in the most danger.

Always tread lightly. He lives by that. 

Someone with a cloaked form enters the home, and Chenle starts to become lightheaded. Whether to go out fighting or simply accept is fate, he isn't sure. There isn't enough time to process things like that. 

Putting it bluntly, Chenle is— kind of wimpy.

His friends would approach him with concerns over his frequent episodes of fight or flight, but Chenle would shake his head and tell them to be more cautious themselves. Then they'd call him paranoid. Chenle doesn't understand why they don't see how scary their earth really is. Everyone tells him that he's obsessed, looking for problems that aren't really there, but Chenle knows his behavior would come in handy someday. And if it doesn't, oh well.

"Chenle?"

Much to the mentioned boy's relief, the voice that rings through the apartment is one that he's familiar with. Getting off the ground and playing things off as if he had tripped, Chenle approaches his roommate with a soft smile, recovering from the fact that he was shaking in terror only a few seconds ago. 

"You kind of spooked me, Dejun." Chenle admits with a forced chuckle, the back of his throat tickling in response. "Why do you get home so late, again?" He asks, inwardly frustrated that the older kept doing this to him.

Dejun flashes a charming smile and reaches out to pat Chenle on the top of the head. "You know my hours are weird." He responds. "I have to take up the night shifts so I can go to school during the day. We've talked about this."

Chenle nods, breaking eye contact with a disappointed grimace. The two aren't necessarily friends by any means, but it's not like they're strangers either. Dejun is barely around, and if he is, his boyfriend makes sure to come over too, so Chenle steered clear in attempts of not wanting to be a bother. 

Maybe that's what Chenle needs— a boyfriend who can protect him, or hug him when he's feeling anxious.

He's slightly jealous of Dejun in that aspect, though he'd never swallow his pride to say that. His lack of interest in romance is one of the only solid backbones left in his reputation. 

With this weird stage between acquaintances and buddies, neither of them are sure what kind of topics are open to discussion. Occasionally, Dejun would pop into the living room and ask Chenle how his day was going, but that was about the extent of things. It was rare that the two indulged in an actual conversation.

Dejun takes off his coat, hanging it inside the closet while the shorter boy watches him blankly. He bites his bottom lip, trying not to think about it too much. Admittedly, Dejun thinks that Chenle is kind of... off, but at least the rent is cheaper than living on your own, right? From what he had seen, Chenle is a good person regardless of his suspicious habits. 

With a drawn-out stretch and a hearty yawn, the older of the pair takes the lead to excuse himself. "I've had a really long day today. I'm going to go to bed now, you probably should too, yeah?"

Chenle nods. On most nights, he has problems sleeping, but it can't hurt to try— even if it leaves him gaping into his ceiling until the sun rose. 

—

The following day is, fortunately, the kickoff to the weekend, meaning that Chenle is free to lounge around with no classes to attend. He can wake up or go to sleep whenever he pleases. Just like every weekend, he's more than ready to exploit that perk.

He would have been dozing away on his bed the entirety of the time if it wasn't for Dejun and Kunhang having a horror movie marathon on the sofa only a few rooms down. At first, Dejun was hesitant about the idea, insisting to Chenle that they'd watch a different genre instead, but Chenle said it was fine and that he had to go out anyways.

He doesn't, but again, annoying them is the last thing he wants to do. 

Filling him with displeasure, the sky is exceptionally downcast today, so he's forced to find indoor entertainment somewhere. His original plan was to go window shopping downtown, looking at all the cool antiques in various thrift shops, but he knows that won't be possible when a raindrop lands on his scalp. Soon, more begin to follow, and before long, he's being drenched with rain water.

With the clouds above sobbing uncontrollably, Chenle has no choice but to duck into the local library in hopes of finding shelter. Obviously, he does.

Placed on a fabric-covered seat with a dusty book lodged in between his fingers, Chenle scans through the interestingly gruesome story. He doesn't know how, but he gets sucked in, analyzing the main character's actions and scolding her for being 'too naive.' She's a complete ditz to say the least.

The scene he's in the middle of reaches its climax just as someone clears their throat only a few feet in front of him. Chenle glances up, unbothered with the intrusion. He needs something to distract him anyways before he gets too hung up in the plot. With a few more sentences, he'd probably be tempted to check out the work— an idea that probably isn't a very good one, considering it'd only heighten his scared nature. 

"The second one is better."

Chenle quirks a single eyebrow at the tall figure looming overhead. He presses the covers together, setting the book on a small table next to him and shooting the male a questionable look.

"What?" He asks.

The man with soft features and black hair steps forward. "The first book isn't very good, too cliché in my opinion. As an assistant here, I'm not technically supposed to be telling you this, but you should order the second one online and read it first. The setup is much clearer, and it doesn't make you want to rip your hair out." He chuckles.

"Oh." Chenle replies, averting any form of the eye contact the larger was trying to develop. He's uncomfortable, but then again, Chenle is uncomfortable with anything and anyone these days. "Thanks, I guess."

A hand is extended in Chenle's direction, which leads up to a bright, bunny-like smile when trailed to his face. "I'm Doyoung. It's not common that we see a young person like yourself. What brings you here?" He inquires, pulling up a chair. The guy seemed rather enthused to see a college student taking a trip to the library.

"The rain."

The older blinks back an embarrassed expression, his lips printed into a kindly curl against his skin. "Well, I'm still glad you chose here to come. There aren't many passionate readers your age."

Doyoung sounds like a grandmother, but Chenle appreciates the warm welcome. It's better than standing out in the storm at least.

"I actually had a question." Chenle says, to which Doyoung perks up, more than happy to answer. Chenle pries the book open once again and flips to the last few pages, taking one of them in particular into his grip. "Why are these pages empty? It's not even the end of the story, but this sentence over here cuts off halfway and then everything else is just blank."

Doyoung starts to explain the concept behind the ending and Chenle finds himself diving deep into thought, hanging on to every word that fills the air. He forgets why he's here in the first place as he and Doyoung then proceed to talk about many different things and forms of entertainment.

After the rough winds subside and the weather is all clear, Chenle steps down the street, a bag of retro video games and vhs tapes under his arm. Thanks to his new friend in the library, he was appointed to several suggestions, and somehow, Doyoung knew the lore behind all of them. He was also recommended to come back in a month's time to receive more. 

It isn't every day that Chenle talks to people outside of his roommate or his family, so the little change of things is nice. He never really speaks to his peers around campus, but for some reason, he thinks his meeting with Doyoung was engaging and entertaining. He won't mind going to see him again. 

When Chenle places a foot in the entrance of the apartment, the scream of a protagonist fills his ears. He winces, almost dropping the bag before shooting a glare at the couple piled under a fort of blankets on the couch.

Kunhang is seemingly unfazed— though Chenle's sure he'a just trying to stay composed— by the graphic scenes being displayed, but his boyfriend is locked into his arm, Dejun shielding his eyes with his own hand. It was— kind of cute despite the terrible sounds emitting from the speakers. 

They pause the movie and collectively turn to the new face in the room. Only a few words are exchanged, and Chenle grabs his game console, retreating to his room as he utters a few brief goodbyes before closing the door behind him.

He's excited to try out the new games. Perhaps they'll help him get better in general.

Little does he know.

Setting up the console takes merely a few minutes, and once everything is up and running, Chenle inserts the first disk. He reads through the introduction that directly follows the loading screen, and he presses play.

He didn't expect himself to become so preoccupied, but yet again, Chenle is up late that night, eyes straining to make out the little boxes of text displayed on the screen. Most of the picks only hold his attention for a solid half hour, and then he discards of them, putting them back in the case and switching out the game for another in the endless pile he had stocked up.

In the quietest part of dusk, Chenle makes his way through and reaches his final destination at the last choice. He had intentionally saved this one for after a short playthrough of the others. It isn't for any reason except that this one is a thriller. Something in his gut tells him to let it sit, but curiosity gets the best of him.

Propped against his pillows, Chenle waits for the system to process, but he's left perplexed when things start lagging in the middle of his second restart. He rolls his eyes in annoyance before jumping off the bed, approaching the small box on his floor and pushing the eject button. 

But the disk refuses to come out, and an urgent error message flashes over the TV in red letters. Chenle doesn't read it, as he's too frustrated, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What the...?" Chenle ponders aloud in a whisper. This hadn't happened to him before, so why it won't work is beyond him. He continues to jam every button in hopes that it'll eventually give up and crash, but he's left in shock in regards to what happens next. 

Chenle's outlet begins sparking glitter-like flares all over his bedroom, threatening to start a fire on his drapes. The slight crackling of miniature flames ignites a panic in Chenle, and his pulse quickens.

A loud pop is heard, and the boy's ears ring a loud and obnoxious tune, making him cringe. He falls back to the ground, body pressing into his metal bed frame limply. The rest becomes a blur as he loses consciousness.


	3. STRANGE PLACE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> toto, I‘ve a feeling chenle’s not in kansas anymore

Sometimes there's nothing you can do other than simply exist, because anything more strenuous than that will hurt too much. 

Though once in a while, even breathing can result in the pain of tiny daggers entering the lungs, puncturing every corner with their pointy blades. Being sliced from the inside out feels like literal hell, and Chenle hadn't been acquainted with the sensation until he's left to lay face-up on the scorching ground. He refuses to move— or even open his eyes for that matter.

Life clutches on to his body weakly, lacking the strength to motivate said boy towards jumping to his feet. Shuddering, Chenle uses every ounce of willpower left in his soul to pry himself awake, the hazy view of a sun-filled sky residing above his motionless frame. The taste of honey-like sunshine droplets curve over his lips in a bittersweet manner as if to kiss some sense back into him. Being unresponsive to anything else, Chenle falls subject, and goes to shift on to his side. 

At once, every bone in his body seems to crack and an incoherent cry slips from his mouth, twirling up into the ironically blissful atmosphere. Under normal circumstances, Chenle would burst a chuckle at the juxtaposition, but he's too afraid of bursting something else if he tried that now. Specifically— one of his organs. It feels like he's been run over.

A lonesome tear rolls down his face at the excruciating pain roaring over his being. It's hot. It's incredibly hot. Chenle won't be surprised if the moisture evaporates right out of his glossed eyes. 

With a hip pressed into what feels like jagged concrete, Chenle remains absolutely still to let his surroundings settle. After an extended amount of time, he's able to focus on the objects in the distance, and he makes out the picture of houses sitting on the horizon. They don't look right.

This isn't home.

This isn't like any area he's ever seen.

Chenle feels sick to his stomach upon the realization that he has no idea where he is. He stiffens his arms underneath his weight and pushes up onto his bottom, loose bits of burning rock getting stuck in his skin as a result. He winces, wiping his palms on his legs— and that's when it dawns on him that he's probably so sweaty due to his clothes being the same ones he last wore in his bedroom. A hoodie and sweatpants aren't exactly ideal for conditions such as these. 

If teleportation were possible, there'd be an explanation to this scenario Chenle found himself in, but it isn't. He's clueless in regards to how he got here.

After full minutes of both preparation and contemplation, Chenle slowly rises up. His body curls forward in response to the upright position, drowsy and tender like he has just finished running laps around the globe. He grunts a few times with heavy steps, his breaths both unsteady and short.

He doesn't know much at all in this moment, but he knows that he needs to find someone and pinpoint his location. Deliriously, he begins to trudge down the silent streets. 

Wherever he is, it's well-managed. Everything is oddly pleasing to the eye, all straightened up and neat. It looks like one of those neighborhoods you'd see in children's cartoons where every house is the exact same. It'a nice to see, but something about it strikes Chenle as eery and unsettling. 

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to come to the conclusion that he doesn't belong here.

A few— citizens—are seen doing yard work or barbecuing on their front porches, none of them sparing a glance at the foreigner traveling alongside the road. Chenle is thankful, in a disturbing sort of way. Part of him wants to be acknowledged just so he knows if this is real, or preferably, a figment of his imagination.

Nonetheless, he continues.

There's another ache with every movement, but Chenle doesn't let that stop him. His pace is slow, but he's not willing to give up. If he spends too much time lounging around in the sun like he was when he woke up, he'll probably die of dehydration.

Chenle doesn't want to die.

As he gets closer to what appears to be a buzzing city, the buildings get bigger and more diverse. Chenle assumes that he's entering the heart of their civilization, and the incredibly confusing architecture proves to be enough to help offset the dread hanging over him. 

People become plentiful when he reaches the downtown area, but in contrary to the rural folk, they're all turning their heads to stare at Chenle—whose heart stops pounding in his fragile chest. It's like something he's witnessed in his nightmares before, but he's pretty sure there's no waking up after a good hour of walking already. 

He starts becoming doubtful that this is an illusion, and that scares him more than anything.

Chenle's mouth runs dry and he suddenly doesn't know how to speak, feeling the glares poke at him tauntingly. He doesn't move. He wouldn't dare to. Not with these beady creatures staring at him. They look like humans, but there's no way of telling.

When Chenle finally has enough of whatever this is, he scopes around, spotting an empty alley and making a dash for it at once. He leans against the brick wall, letting loose the breath he didn't know he was holding in until then, and the noises in the streets pick up yet again as if nothing happened. 

Chenle wants to cry.

He's lost, and there doesn't seem to be anyone even relatively friendly-looking around who can help him. Stuck with nobody by his side, Chenle is overwhelmed. Would this be his life now? What even is this?

The boy shuts his eyes tight, thinking that maybe it'll do something to take him back home, but it doesn't. When he peers once more, he's still in the same, slender, space between two buildings. Though, something is different, and it catches his attention.

Creeping out of the black abyss a few feet away from him, Chenle sees something moving along in the void. A translucent object— much like the shape of a long and lanky arm— begins to seethe from the shadows, dripping down with a mud-like mixture as it oozes down to the pavement below Chenle's feet. His blood runs cold. 

What the fuck. As if things can't get worse.

You would think Chenle's initial reaction would be to scream, or run, or do something, but he turns entirely numb. With a slacked jaw agape in disbelief, Chenle can do nothing but gawk.

Freckles of the sewage-scented goop draw near the boy, and he fights the instant temptation to vomit. He doesn't even have anything in the contents of his stomach, but that's just how disgusting it is. The foul smell makes him revolted, stumbling backwards in an attempt to get away. His nose burns. 

The 'fingers' jolt forward and clasp around Chenle's ankle when they sense the male moving away, and he's pulled forward, ass slamming against the concrete with a loud thud that's bound to make Chenle even more sore by tomorrow— if he was fortunate enough to see another day in his new habitat. 

The boneless digits lace through his skin and curve into the spasming flesh. Chenle lets go of the tongue he had been biting down and screeches from deep in his gut, knowing all too well that it won't do anything to his benefit. He starts to flap his arms around in terror, yelling for help. Being pulled, he twists his ankle and digs his fingers into the dense earth, unable to grip at anything other than handfuls of rubble. 

Little patches of skin begin to peel off his torso as Chenle's hoodie hikes up against the rough surface of the ground. It stings— so bad, but he can't combat properly while being tossed around like a rag doll, being lured into wherever this thing came from. He screams. So loud, yet so silent.

Wedged between the inconsistent wails and the failed attempts at fighting back, Chenle becomes breathless. Salty tears race down his face as he heaves the oxygen— or lack thereof— engulfing him. 

His lord and savior comes seconds later in the form of a thick flashlight, shooting beams of white rays into the dark and evil patch. In reaction, the hand shrinks and shrivels up into a weakly compressed fist. Chenle scurries out of the way as quickly as possible, trembling to his very core after the traumatic experience. He's too shaken up to get more than a few feet away, but it's still enough.

The arm breaks formation and erupts into a splitting pile of sludge, steaming from the sudden heat. A soundless explosion occurs and splashes the substance on the surrounding walls, which then drips like paint.

When it all seems to be over, Chenle's knees give out and he tumbles to the ground. He fights a gag with a sweaty forehead and tear-stained cheeks. He chokes up. All of the wind within his little figure is spit into a whooping fury as he can't control his own coughing, stomach feeling tired with the excessive force. 

"Hey." 

A soft voice calls out while his episode recedes.

Chenle lifts his head exhaustedly.

Leaning over him, flashlight in hand, is a boy with a bewildered expression. He's tall and thin, but in a healthy way rather than a malnourished one. Placed atop his youthful face are rounded locks, sandy blonde in color. His face is sculpted with gentle curves, small eyes and plump lips included. Chenle raises his brows curiously. 

"Hi?" He greets, which only ends up sounding more like a question. 

The standing figure squats down into a crouch, observing Chenle carefully and peeking at the small bloody spots soaked into his top. "Are you okay?" He asks, vision continuing to trail.

Is he okay? What'a Chenle supposed to say to that? He's never been better? He departs from a wavering exhale and shakes his head.

"That was..." His voice trails off, becoming too quiet for the peculiar subject in front of him to pick up on. Biting his bottom lip with a miniature nod, the larger extends a hand in his direction. 

"I'm Jisung."

Chenle grips on to Jisung, shaking his hand carefully. He was never one to introduce himself to a stranger, but Chenle figures he doesn't have much of an alternative in this situation. Besides, this guy had just saved his life, the least he can do is show gratitude.

"Chenle." He says. "Thank you for saving me, by the way. That was looking really bad for a moment." 

Jisung raises a hand, bashfully waving it as if to signal he doesn't need the appreciation. "It's no problem. You didn't look like someone who lives here, so I thought I'd help you out."

Chenle freezes.

"Well you guessed correctly." He muses, thinking back to the way he woke up in the distorted world only a while ago. "Are you not from here either?"

There's a pause.

"No."

"Oh..."

Jisung reveals a tiny smile, the corners of his mouth turning upwards while he tries to look trustworthy and approachable. The boy won't be able to forgive himself if he scares Chenle away. He finally found someone like himself— brought here without explanation. After what felt like weeks of abandonment, there's somebody he can talk to. 

"Hey, do you need bandages for your side?" He tilts his head, still focused on the shorter's injuries. Truthfully speaking, Jisung gets sick when it came to more than a speck of blood, and the picture in his imagination of Chenle's damaged side is making him somewhat squeamish.

Raising his hoodie over his bellybutton, Chenle bends slightly to examine his abdomen, and sure enough, he's hurt. Not to the extent that he'd pass out or anything without medical attention, but he still needs to be cleaned. A change of clothes sounds nice too, but he doesn't know where to find that. 

"If you have some to spare."

Jisung hums and then proceeds to mention he has several at his place of residence while the two walk side by side down the alleyway, light aimed in front of them.


	4. COMPANION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and they were roommates / oh my god they were roommates

Chenle clenches his teeth, wincing painfully while the rubbing alcohol is applied to his wounds. The cuts aren't even that serious, but Jisung insists that Chenle treats them if he doesn't want an infection— so Chenle is left with no choice but to sit and let the stranger clean him up. It feels strange, considering he and Jisung have never met before now, but he isn't going to complain. Especially not with Jisung being so nice. 

Growing up, Chenle was always warned not to trust strangers.

But his parents aren't here.

'Here' being Jisung's apartment, and specifically— his sofa.

Laying a bandage over the final injury with a feathery touch, Jisung looks up from his spot on the ground— where he has been kneeling for the last twenty minutes— and smiles kindly. 

"All better?" He asks, leaning back to take in the expression on Chenle's face. To his relief, it seems to be one of satisfaction.

Chenle nods slowly, a shy grin etched on his lips. "Yeah, thanks again."

Jisung doesn't take the time to respond. Instead, he gathers the supplies that sit sprawled out in front of his knees and stands up. With the lingering scent of vanilla and an airy whirl, the interesting boy walks away. What he fails to notice is the pair of eyes trailing the outline of his form as he gets farther into the distance. Chenle is all too aware that it's considered impolite to stare, but taking his affairs into account, he feels like there are a few exceptions. 

The room is silent as Jisung puts his things away, and the atmosphere becomes a bit tense. Jisung wants to say something to prevent things from getting even more rigid, but what exactly do you say to someone who has no idea where they are? Nonetheless, someone who would have died if it wasn't for you. 

Lucky for him, Chenle is actually the first one to speak. It happens when Jisung returns to the couch, and Chenle has made himself comfortable through laying out in a starfish-like fashion. It doesn't take very long for Jisung to conclude that Chenle is exhausted— after all, the weighted bags drooped above his cheeks make that very clear. So it's somewhat surprising when a voice cuts through his thoughts.

"Can I ask you a few questions?" Chenle pipes up. "About— everything?" He adds quietly. 

"Sure."

Grabbing on to a pillow nearby and pulling it into his stomach, Chenle prepares his inquiries— internally sorting them in order of importance. After only a moment or two, he clicks his tongue, which acts as sort of a starting signal. 

"First of all..." Chenle addresses, his tone seeming rather professional for someone who had been scared out his wits only half an hour ago. Jisung finds the contradiction rather amusing, but keeps a straight face. "Where are we?" Chenle gestures to the window, pointing towards the strange and heterochromatic world buzzing just below the thin, glass frame.

Jisung blinks. "I don't know, actually." He admits with a pair of pursed lips, somewhat ashamed that he can't prove what Chenle's looking for. "Like I mentioned back in the alley, I'm not from here either. All I know is that things are different from earth. There are like— monsters, and you always have to keep an eye out for them or else you're gonna get it. It's scary, but you can live as long as you figure out how to avoid things."

The hairs on the backside of Chenle's neck grow erect at the mention of spooky creatures. He isn't even a fan of horror in the media back home, and now he's expected to embrace it in reality? If what Jisung is saying turns out to be true, there's no way he'll make it over a week. He's doomed— quite literally hopeless. 

He stares, hesitant to let the words slip out on their own. But soon enough, he's pleading for answers. "What kind of monsters? And how do you avoid them?"

"They're mainly in the shadows." Jisung replies, his behavior shifting from lighthearted to serious. Chenle can tell simply by the look he's wearing that Jisung isn't lying, and his icy tone shoots a chill down his spine. "That hand that grabbed you earlier— that's what I like to call an Umbrute." He quips with a clever glint. "It's a mixture of umbra and brute. They come out of the dark and hunt you down like beasts. Thankfully, you can ward them off by directing light towards them." He picks up the flashlight as if to say 'see?'

It's not until then that Chenle recognizes the overly illuminated state of the room. It's the middle of the day, yet there isn't a single corner that's left dim with little lights placed as far as the eye can see. Chenle's jaw slacks as he tries to picture how high Jisung's electrical bill is each month to keep everything running. Although he isn't sure whether or not they even have bills here. 

"You said 'mainly.'" Chenle points out. "Are there other things I should be worried about?" Though he may not show it, Chenle is terrified with his new environment. If someone were to walk up to him and tell him that monsters are real, you'd see him packing his bags and moving as far away as possible. However, it's kind of hard to do that when your entire world has been dragged out from under your feet and shredded into pieces. Chenle is stuck.

"A few." Jisung confirms and then rises to his feet, gesturing for Chenle to follow him down the hallway. Chenle does as instructed and trails closely behind Jisung, suddenly frightful with every little noise. The two reach what appears to be a bedroom, and Jisung digs through the closet while he proceeds to speak. "I have a short list of rules." He says. "Don't talk to citizens at night, do not go swimming in the sea, and avoid city meetings at all costs."

Chenle feels his lips numbing and he wants to ask what will happen if he does those things, but perhaps it'll be better for him if he doesn't know. They say that ignorance is bliss, and for someone like Chenle— it can definitely be seen why. 

Jisung spins on his heels with a shirt in hand and he tosses it to Chenle. "Your hoodie still has blood on it." The boy points out as if Chenle hadn't been made aware of that already. Nonetheless, he appreciates the gesture and clutches the clothing gratefully.

While standing in the center of Jisung's bathroom, Chenle gapes at the mirror on the wall, wicked eyes scanning over every inch of skin. His hair is awfully unkempt, shattered bits of gravel sticking out here and there. He runs a set of unsteady fingers through his locks, grimacing at the quiet noise of rubble falling to the ground as a result of being shifted out of place.

His skin looks dead. Pale and cold. Not only cold, but freezing. A lifeless veil clouds his appearance and portrays Chenle as a walking corpse. Of course, he's not actually dead, but the distinction would be hard to make if it wasn't for his flushed cheeks. His cheeks are sunburnt from laying out on the pavement that morning. He sighs. 

Chenle's stomach twists around itself like it's been doing the entire afternoon. He starts to lift a hand to his mouth in hopes of shoving down the freaky sensation climbing up his tongue, but he's too late. Bending over forcefully with his palms ramming into the ceramic surface of the counter, Chenle spits a greenish substance into the sink— tainting the pure, bright image.

He tries to stop, choking back his own vomit with hellish sounds that he's certain Jisung can hear, but it just keeps coming. Tears fall from his lids for probably the tenth time today, and when he finally drops to the ground, his form shakes violently in place. He's afraid. He's so so afraid. He doesn't want to be here. Why was he chosen for this demonic scenario of all people? Why not somebody more capable?

This isn't like Chenle's other sobbing sessions— this time he's absolutely devastated. His struggled cries cut off the air to his lungs, and Chenle can't breathe. This can't be real, there's no way this is actually happening to him. That's what he wants to say, but at the moment, he can't say anything. Crossing his legs over each other and pulling his knees to his chest, Chenle digs his head into his own body. Jisung shouldn't have to listen to him being like this. No one should. It's not their fault Chenle can't contain his emotions. He's just a fragile boy with glass-like confidence— so easily shattered. 

"Are you okay?"

No.

You can practically hear the frown on Jisung's face as he speaks, and Chenle feels guilty for being the one to cause that frown. "I'm coming in." Jisung announces, and Chenle wants so badly to say 'please don't' and blockade the bathroom door, but he can't. He doesn't want anyone to see him like this, but he's too weak to spit up a response. 

We don't always get what we want.

Jisung swings open the bathroom door and looks down on Chenle, who's sitting on the floor, fists tied around the white shirt Jisung had lent him only minutes ago. He's not familiar with Chenle yet, but that doesn't stop him from feeling sorry. The scene reminds Jisung of when he was first brought here— which wasn't actually that long ago. In that time, he wished he had someone to lean on, but there was no one.

However, now Chenle is experiencing the same thing, and the least Jisung can do is be there for him. 

Crouching down hesitantly— and disregarding the puke in his sink— Jisung creeps towards Chenle with a careful nature, making sure not to spook him. Chenle doesn't react, he only hides his head between his legs in shame. He's embarrassed. 

"I can't do this." Chenle squeaks, wavering. "I can't do this." He continues to repeat that phrase over and over again, each time growing more desperate for some kind of relief. Jisung stiffens on the ground beside him, too nervous to formulate what he should say or do.

"Um." He stammers. Inhaling sharply, Jisung reaches out and cups a tender grasp over the curve of Chenle's shoulder— which bounces lightly up and down thanks to the latter's trembles. "Hey, you'll be okay, I promise. We can stick together. It'll all be fine." He reassures in a hushed tone, hand rubbing back and forth in a circular motion. Chenle melts at the action.

Burdening a stranger with the responsibility of keeping him safe is the last thing he wants to do, but he's too unraveled to refuse. Chenle catches his breath with a small series of sniffles.

Jisung grabs a tissue box from above on the counter and pulls it down to Chenle's line of vision. Chenle struggles a wrinkly smile, internally thanking Jisung as he turns away to wipe his nose. After discarding of the thin fabric, he faces Jisung once again, a subtle wave of content shoring on the forefront of his mind.

"Don't worry so much." Jisung directs in probably the sweetest way possible. Chenle doesn't quite understand how he can say things like that when he's in the same shoes. Not worrying is a lot harder than it sounds— but Chenle gulps down the lump in the base of his throat with a quaint nod, succumbing to the idea of living in the present. Right now he's not alone, and that's all it takes.

"I can really stay here with you?" He dares to question.

"Of course." Jisung beams, curling his lips back and straining a chuckle through his impressively strong teeth. "I feel like maybe if I have someone else here with me, it'd be easier for the both of us to manage. You can live here in the apartment if you're comfortable with it. If not, I understand."

Chenle lets go of a bitter snicker. "I mean, where else am I going to stay, right?" Jisung shrugs at this. He has a point. It's not like Chenle can just go out and find somewhere else to live. "I know I've said this a lot today, but thank you. It really means a lot to me that you've taken me under like this. I know it must not be easy for you."

Jisung shakes his head. "Hey, don't sweat it."

"Can I— hug you?" Chenle proposes, not meaning for the request to come out as hurried and premature as it does. His mind rushes to retract his words, but before he gets the chance, he's met with the slender body being pressed lightly to his own. Jisung's arms find their way around his own physique, and Chenle is knocked speechless.

"Just breathe..." Jisung starts.

"I won't let anything happen to you."


	5. CEREAL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter while listening to animal crossing music. that’s not important, just thought I’d share.

Jisung notices the eye-bags that droop underneath Chenle's dark and irritated pupils. He's not been sleeping much, but the reasoning is rather justified. Jisung doesn't sleep much either, and that's because he's too busy watching his own shadow.

The apartment is eery and somewhat uncomfortable to live in, but Jisung isn't sure he would feel content anywhere that's not home. It's almost like he's trapped in a boundless purgatory at this point. Still, he tries his best to make things seem okay right where he is.

Now that Chenle is in the picture as well, Jisung comes to the conclusion that he has two choices. He can either cower in fear or he can man up to be the best bodyguard of his ability. Chenle is sensitive, and requires a stern figure to follow. Jisung has never had to take up a position of leadership like this, so it's kind of pressuring to enforce security.

However, despite the constant reiteration that he's big and strong enough to protect Chenle from the corrupt world, Jisung is revealed to be a baby on the inside. There are moments in which he pulls down his facade to become a gentle giant.

Chenle finds himself stumbling in on said moments surprisingly often.

"Jisung... what are you doing up so late?"

He stands with messy hair in the doorway of the kitchen, staring down at the frozen boy with his hand crammed into a cardboard box of cereal on the table. Jisung gapes right back at him, exchanging Chenle's perplexed expression with one of guilt. The ruffling inside the plastic bag stops, and Jisung pulls his fingers out warily.

Like a milksop, he lowers his head in shame. "I got hungry and I only like the marshmallows." Jisung admits, averting the judgmental gaze he knows he's receiving from his roommate. He braces himself for a scolding— but to his astonishment, it never arrives.

Instead, Chenle chuckles and grabs a dish. He then tugs out a chair beside Jisung and sits down, making a brief gesture to the box in his grasp. "Let me help you." Causing Jisung to break out into a congenial smile.

Together, the young pair sifts through the entirety of the cereal, leaving only the 'gross,' plain pieces at the bottom of the box. They work in silence, but it's definitely not as awkward as it would have been only a few days ago. It's rising up on about a week since Chenle moved in, and much to his surprise, things are going relatively well.

He's still scared out of his mind— but with the help of Jisung, Chenle quickly learns what's safe and what he should avoid. Thanks to the fact that he's practically attached to Jisung's hip at this point, he doesn't get in much trouble. Jisung is very aware of everything dangerous in this world despite only being here a month or so longer than Chenle himself.

"Thanks for lending a hand." Jisung says once they're finished. Jisung and Chenle peer down at the collection of marshmallows and then exchange eye contact, but the latter bursts into a small wave of giggles. Jisung doesn’t even realize what’s happening when his cheeks burn up, fiery red in color. 

"Of course." Chenle reaches over and gives Jisung a friendly pat on the shoulder. "It's not like I have much else to do anyways— besides sleep." He whirls, a sense of disappointment able to be traced in his words. It nearly makes Jisung frown. 

"True." Jisung suppresses a bitter laugh. He hates seeing someone else go through the same thing he is, but there isn't anything Jisung can do to help on his own. They're stuck here together, so there must be some kind of reason, right? The best he can do is make sure Chenle is as cozy as needed. Though, there's no force that actually promotes him as some kind of caregiver, it just feels right. 

Dragging his chair out and allowing the legs to scrape against the hardwood floor, Jisung clasps his fingers over the edge of the bowl and carries it to the counter not too far away. Chenle's eyes don't leave him as he gets out not one— but two— separate bowls from the cabinet and proceeds to pour each of them a bit of cereal. 

Within a minute, Jisung is seated on the other side of the table once again and passes Chenle the midnight snack— which he accepts gracefully. This is just in time, considering Chenle's rumbling stomach. He wraps his grip around the metal spoon given to him before he's interrupted by Jisung. 

"What did you do back home?" He suddenly asks, catching Chenle by surprise with the spoon resting halfway in his mouth. 

"Hm?" Chenle hums in reply, tilting his head as he puts the silverware back down. "Oh." He strings his lips into a thin line as a channel for focus. 

His life back home. Several recollections and memories flood him at the same time, and Chenle wonders where would be the best part for him to begin. His normal life isn’t particularly thrilling, but that doesn’t mean it’s not detailed. He’s had a few adventures in the past, and possesses many different hobbies. But what if Jisung grows bored with his explanations?

This train of thought sprouts into a deep contemplation. Is Dejun looking for him, or is he still preoccupied with Kunhang? Does anyone miss his existence? Chenle isn’t too close with anyone around campus, so it’s hard telling whether or not anyone even notices his absence.

After a while, Chenle lifts his chin to stare at the waiting expression on Jisung’s face. "Well for starters, I'm studying to become a veterinarian." He says proudly, stirring his cereal in a rhythmic fashion.

"No kidding? I love animals!" Jisung exclaims, fingers looped around the edge of his chair and eyes parted wide. Chenle almost grows flustered as a result of the supposed enthusiasm. Nobody really takes interest in his dreams, so seeing Jisung get excited is a switch. A good switch.

He composes his head and giggles, not wanting all of the attention to spotlight on himself. "What about you? Are you a student?" Chenle questions, finally able to sneak a bite of his food. It’s a mouthful of empty calories and sugar, but he ignores that for now.

Jisung nods. "Law."

Chenle lifts his eyebrows and sucks on the marshmallows in his mouth until they’re dry. "So, you're a smart guy then, huh?" He jokes, pointing his spoon at the boy with the intrusion of a grin.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Jisung lets his voice fall and becomes bashful. "I wouldn't say that." He replies, shy at the assumption of him being intelligent. Sure, Jisung isn’t stupid, but hearing someone else say it is enough to make him shut down— especially when it’s coming from a cute boy.

Chenle doesn’t give up there, however, and continues to nudge Jisung in the arm. "Oh come on. Give yourself more credit." He scolds, leaning back in his seat with a hardened face. "You seem smart to me."

"Well..." Jisung trails off, the colorful array of butterflies in his stomach swarming together. "Thank you.” A single chuckle slips through. If he were in the right state of mind, he would have pulled away from acting too obvious— but the moonlight shining down on them and the lateness of the night makes his worries irrational. 

"What made you want to study law?" Chenle bends at the waist and darts his elbows into the table, leaning his chin into his palms. It seems that Jisung too, has never had anyone take interest in his personal affairs...

Because a glaze covers Jisung’s face, and Chenle knows he’s in for a lengthy story.

"So then I said, 'you're just assuming things at this point!' and he left." Chenle concludes his anecdote with an abrupt clap of his hands. Jisung, who is dozed off by now, jumps awake at the noise. He hasn’t always been on edge, but living in this world has made him more sensitive to things like that. 

"He sounds like a meanie." Jisung scratches his head drearily. He may have been half asleep a few seconds ago, but he still managed to catch on to the gist of what Chenle was saying. He tries so hard to stay awake for the older’s sake, but he’s exhausted— and his food is long gone.

"He was." Chenle confirms, not even taking note of Jisung’s dazed state. He gets too caught up in storytelling. "But he’s not in my life anymore."

There's a tense pause that makes Chenle inhale sharply. 

"Then again— I guess nobody's in my life at the moment with our— situation." He blinks. Chenle wants to laugh about it, but he can’t bring himself away from missing home. What he truly wants is to go back and act like none of this ever happened. Maybe if he’s lucky, he’ll wake up and realize it was all a dream.

But the look on Jisung’s face tells Chenle that neither of them are dreaming. 

"I'm really sorry Chenle, we'll get you home soon. I don't know how, but it'll happen." Jisung attempts to comfort him. He doesn’t know why exactly, but he feels accountable— at least to the point where viewing Chenle upset tugs at his heartstrings. 

"Don't apologize!" Chenle waves his hands in the air dramatically. He then reaches over and places a palm on top of Jisung’s chilled knuckles, rubbing with the force of a feather. "At least I have you here by my side in the meantime. You're very sweet." Upon the compliment, Jisung feels himself shrivel up in his spot with embarrassment.

He brushes away his anxiety— knowing he won’t be able to speak with it gnawing at him. "Thanks. I'm happy that I'm not alone now— but I also feel bad about you being dragged here. I get the hunch you're not exactly fond of scary things." The corners of his lips sink inwards, and he flashes an understanding gaze.

Chenle sighs with a playful manner of defeat. "What gave it away?" He jests.

Jisung own grin seeps deeper into his skin, amused with the ease of their conversation. He’s lucky that the two of them are close in age— or else it’s hard telling how struggled communication would be. Speaking with Chenle seems natural, almost like Jisung has done it his entire life. He hopes Chenle thinks the same.

Neither of them makes a sound, but it’s not an empty silence. For some strange reason— Chenle is comfortable.

"We should probably go to sleep." Jisung announces at last, cutting through the surface of their little moment. He doesn’t know whether it’s the shyness or the fatigue taking control of his tongue, but he has the urge to crawl into bed— maybe it’s the babyish part that was talked about earlier. 

"You're probably right." Chenle gets up and places his empty dish in the sink. Turning on his heels, he then faces Jisung once again, who is now slumped over the table with his upper half laying on top of it. "Anything planned for tomorrow?" He asks.

Jisung doesn’t adjust his poor posture before answering. "Not really, but you never know when you'll need the extra strength." He suggests, prying open his eyes just enough to take in the nod of Chenle’s head.

"Good point."

Getting up, Jisung also puts his things away. “It was a lot of fun talking to you." He says, and he means it. Jisung craves contact after being alone for what feels like so long, and it’s a lot easier to receive with Chenle around. It only helps more that Chenle is interesting and fun. Part of Jisung feels like one of those elementary kids who wants to be Chenle’s friend really badly, but he’s timid.

"You too. Sleep well, Jisung." And with that, Chenle starts to walk towards the hallway, leaving Jisung in the dim room by himself.

"Wait—“ The word leaves Jisung’s body without him even having the time to process it. He stuns himself, not expecting Chenle to actually stop moving. It’s like he heard it in his head as he was speaking. 

Chenle turns around in the same doorway he had entered about an hour ago and waits for Jisung to continue.

Sweating a little, Jisung clears his throat and takes a step closer to Chenle, only now seeing that he’s taller by a smidge. “I can't help but notice that neither of us are able to rest." He starts, using all of his effort to restrain from tripping over his speech. "Do you want to spend the night in my room? I'll sleep on the floor."

"Okay." Chenle agrees, and Jisung is floored. He didn’t actually expect Chenle to go through with it, because he was afraid Chenle would be disturbed at the weird request— but he isn’t. Rather, he stands in place with a kind twinkle.

Without further elaboration, they travel throughout the apartment and dip into Jisung’s bedroom— which, to Chenle’s amazement, is clean. The room is definitely more in-place than his own at the dorms at least (though truthfully, this doesn’t say much.)

They don’t bother to put on any sort of pajamas, and skip to diving into their sleeping positions. Chenle doesn’t quite feel content with sharing a bed, but that’s not much of a problem since Jisung insists on sleeping on the floor anyways. The only things he takes with him are a few pillows and a thin blanket. Almost voluntarily, he curls up into a fetal position on the floor while hugging one of the pillows to his chest.

“Goodnight.” Chenle rolls on to his side. He’s able to look around thanks to the constant need for light. He really doesn’t want to deal with any umbrutes tonight, so they have no choice but to leave a lamp on at all times.

“Goodnight.” Jisung hums.

As Chenle snuggles into Jisung’s sheets that night, he realizes just how quiet it is— almost too quiet for his liking.

But something about hearing the subtle breaths from down below is oddly reassuring.


	6. COUGH SYRUP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> first chapter in months, i hope there’s still someone who reads this

"You look terrible." Chenle mumbles, staring down at the pale figure in bed. He'd been somewhat dampened by the fact that it's now noon and the other boy isn't awake yet, so he came to check on him. Jisung's face is a cherry red, and his eyes droop down into a sad expression. He looks weak.

"Are you calling me ugly?" Jisung ponders through a struggled cough, doing the best he can to snap out of his daze and prop himself up on the thick skin of his elbows. His entire body aches at the movement, but he doesn't make any noise apart from a hushed sniffle. 

Chenle chuckles and lightly pushes Jisung's hips to the other side of the bed, making enough room for himself to sit down, and he does. The mattress bends only a little underneath his weight, which is good because it keeps him from disturbing the ill boy. "No, I mean you look sicker than a dog." He retorts, moving a gentle hand from his lap to press against the center of Jisung's forehead.

It's warm— burning, in fact. Jisung's head might as well be on fire, so it's no wonder why he's glued to his bed sheets and knocked half-unconscious. Chenle frowns, retracting his hand and observes as Jisung shuts his eyes slowly. He's sick, that's for sure. And Chenle would love to be able to help him, but being in a strange and new world, he doesn't know how that'd be possible.

"How bad do you feel on a scale of one to ten?" Chenle asks, flashing back to past experiences in the doctor's office— though, they only seemed to ask him those kinds of questions when he was little. 

Jisung rolls his eyes in response. "Really?" He asks, and when Chenle doesn't answer, he throws his head back on to the soft fabric of his pillow case. "One." He assures, making sure to keep his eyes wide open for the time being. "One. I feel fine, I'm just kind of tired I guess." And as if on cue, he yawns. Now, it's Chenle's turn to sigh with annoyance.

"Oh yeah? Try to get up then." He offers, expecting Jisung to pull back and own up to his unwell state. But he doesn't. 

Instead, Jisung swings his legs over the side of the bed and hesitantly pushes the tips of his toes into the carpeted floor. Using his grip, he clutches onto the sheets and braces himself for standing, but is both shocked and upset when his knees collapse underneath him in an instant. 

Jisung falls limp and begins to tumble towards the ground in a fury. Lucky for him, Chenle's reflexes come into play, and he's able to catch the younger before he hits the floor. Chenle adjusts his arms underneath Jisung's own and huffs a little when the latter crashes into his chest. Being this close, Chenle can easily determine just how frail Jisung is, and it leaves him surprised. Jisung's body is clammy and damp, and Chenle suddenly grows a really bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

It takes a bit of effort and perseverance, but Chenle manages to push Jisung into bed again. Jisung reacts by whining and groaning in resistance, of course, but Chenle ignores him while he pulls the blankets up to Jisung's chin, tucking them around the sides of his body. Presumably, it's summer outside. The sun is shining and the sky is a vibrant blue, but Jisung is still shivering, so Chenle hopes that the extra layers are able to help.

"What are you doing?" Jisung croaks, hoarse. "Didn't you just come in here to tell me that it's time to get up?"

"I changed my mind." Chenle says while he fluffs the pillow behind Jisung's head. "You're going to stay here and rest, I'll be fine on my own for the day. You have a fever and it'd be stupid to force you to move in this condition. You can't even walk."

A wave of disappointment shores on Jisung's face, and it's clear that he doesn't realize what could happen if he's not careful. Sure, Chenle understands the want to be 'on the move' at a time like this, but trying to function while your body is in such a state of agony and recovery could only make things worse by the tenfold.

"But I have to go to the store today and grab dinner." Jisung protests, pulling the edge of the cover to his chest, which falls up and down heavily with his very-obviously strained breaths. Chenle sees right through the act, and insists on keeping Jisung at bay. "How are we supposed to eat if you won't let me out?" Jisung adds, looking borderline frustrated now. 

Chenle can tell it's going to be a long day. Putting up with Jisung when he's like this is like arguing with a kid.

"I can do it."

"No!" Jisung rushes, his voice cracks the smallest bit and he's wide awake now. He's looking straight at Chenle, sending small shivers down the older's spine. It'd been a long time since he'd seen someone become so worked up. He's not sure whether it scares him or if he should think nothing of it. 

Standing up again, Chenle moves the palms of his hands to the dips in his waist. "What do you mean 'no?'" He questions. "I'm fully capable of defending myself, and it's not like you'd be able to do any better while you're like this."

Jisung knows he's right, but there's no way in hell he'd accept it. Dubbing himself as Chenle's 'bodyguard' comes with a list of responsibilities, and letting him roam the town by himself definitely isn't one of them. Who knows what could happen if Chenle was turned loose in the cruel streets— Jisung may never see him again.

"Chenle, no." He says again, sounding serious. Chenle is a bit surprised, and angry, with the intensity of his tone. He's being such a hard-head. "Don't go out alone, please. I'll come with you or something, but trust me, it's dangerous out there."

If anyone back at home were to talk to Chenle like this, he'd get offended. Nobody has the authority of being able to tell him what to do, but a little voice in the back of his mind makes him want to listen to Jisung. Maybe he should stay put and wait until Jisung is well.

But he probably won't.

The two boys are forced to do everything together these days, so they're getting close a lot faster than either of them would have ever expected. They share clothes, eat the same food, and sleep in the same room while taking turns and rotating who gets the bed and who gets the floor. Chenle would like to blame their sudden bonding on the fact that they living together, but he and Dejun were never this close. There's something about Jisung in particular that makes him different. 

"Fine." He agrees at last with a small nod. "I won't leave, but you have to sleep, okay?"

"That shouldn't be too hard." Jisung jokes with a lighthearted chuckle, making a reference to his overwhelming fatigue. He sinks into the bed exhaustedly, and gives up fighting Chenle while drifting off.

Chenle feels sympathetic. He's sorry that Jisung has to endure a pain like this with no medicine. But up until today, he didn't even know that it was possible to get sick here. This leads to Chenle to wonder if the bacteria here is different from home. There might be illnesses here that he's never even heard of before. It would make sense, in a way.

Without saying anything else, Chenle makes his way to the bathroom and retrieves a box of tissues before bringing them back to the bedside. After that and a glass of water, he closes the bedroom door and steps away, going to the living room, hoping to find something that'll occupy him there.

Despite his curiosity about his surroundings, Chenle hasn't exactly had the chance to roam free inside the apartment because he's constantly at Jisung's side. So, with nothing better to do, Chenle decides to peep around the room. Admittedly, there isn't much to see because Chenle assumes that Jisung lives here under the radar. After all, he doesn't have money or mail that comes to him. 

Chenle continues to search for nothing, and the day passes by as slowly as it always does. Life is boring, but he'd rather be bored than be attacked by whatever's lurking in the shadows. 

Evening rolls around, and there's still no sign that Jisung is awake. He's been out cold all day, and his symptoms only appear to be getting worse, which worries Chenle every time he goes to check on him. Jisung is completely unresponsive, and the only way you can tell he's alive is by his heavy breathing. 

Chenle once learned that having a strong fever for too long can be detrimental to someone's health, so he feels like he has to do something. Anything he can do to make Jisung feel better. And besides, maybe Jisung will be too out-of-it to even notice that he ever left. 

Chenle closes the bedroom door once again with a small click. With feather-like steps, he walks to the kitchen table to grab a flashlight, slipping on his coat and grabbing some cash before going out into the apartment complex's hallway. He feels exhilarated for the first minute or so, but then realizes that nobody else is walking alongside him. 

It's quiet. Too quiet, even.

Any sign of modern civilization is washed away by the deafening silence and the flushed lights that hang over the sidewalk. Chenle stuffs one of his hands into his pocket, and the other hangs forward, clutching the flashlight tightly. He's tense, but can he be blamed? It's the first time he'd gone out since the day he got here, and he has even more to be worried about because he's without anyone accompanying him.

The few other residents who happen to be out tonight shuffle at a normal pace, minding their own business, and for a moment, everything feels like it should. Chenle's still anxious, but he's not on the edge of a breakdown. Though, he doesn't quite get why Jisung instructed him to avoid talking to anyone after dark. They look harmless.

The convenience store— or what appears to be such— is only a few buildings down from the apartment, so it doesn't take long for Chenle to get there and walk inside, where he's met with an artificial breeze of cool air from above the entrance. He takes the hood off of his head and keeps his head down while he starts to sift through the aisles.

A common cold medicine should work just fine, right? Maybe a cough syrup or something? Chenle doesn't get sick very often, especially since he moved away from his parents, so he can only rely on his best guess if anything. After some time, he finds a section for over-the-counter drugs at the back of the store. 

Bingo.

There are boxes and such of all colors. Each and every single one of them is designated for different symptoms, times of day, and ages. The varied selection becomes rather stressful for a small boy who'd never bought this kind of thing before. He wants to get the right thing, but he also doesn't want to spend as much as some of the bottles are displayed. 

A noise from the front counter makes Chenle's ears perk up, and he tunes into a discreet conversation between an employee and a man dressed in dark clothes. Their voices are too quiet to make out what they're saying, but Chenle is suspicious of the exchange. Maybe it's just him being nervous, but he doesn't dismiss it.

When the man leaves, he releases the sigh that he didn't know he was holding captive.

He buys what appears to be the most common brand available and pays for it at the register. His interaction with that same employee is rather odd, and he doesn't say anything to her other than 'thank you' when she hands him a bag. Naturally, he scurries out of there is quick as possible when he's done. One more second and Chenle feels like he would've suffocated in the thick atmosphere. He needs to return to Jisung.

On his way back, Chenle is proud of himself. He'd gone inside somewhere unfamiliar and purchased what he needed to, which is definitely something he can be prideful about. Chenle had never been the social type, so this is a big step for him.

Though, his heart still continues to speed up at an alarming rate, and without thinking, Chenle makes a dash down the street. His feet are moving as they please, and Chenle is practically running through the night with the bag in his grasp swinging and clanging every which way. The stars above act as his cheerleaders, and the apartment is the finish line.

Out of breath, Chenle takes a short break in front of the complex doors, panting in an attempt to let his body catch up to his mind. He raises his head and gazes out over the road one final time.

There's a noise from behind him.

It comes as a shock when a large hand clamps down on Chenle's shoulder, and in a whirl, he spins around on his heels to meet the figure behind him, his jaw slacked.

"What the hell?"

"Oh! Jisung..."

Jisung's expression is scrunched up in distaste, and he's standing there in his pajamas. It's quite the funny sight, except neither of them are laughing, and Chenle's heart is in his throat.

"You told me you wouldn't leave."

The corners of Chenle's lips pull down at once. "What was I supposed to do?!" He asks, raising his voice louder than it had been in days. "You're really sick, and who knows what could happen if you don't get treatment. You need to get better soon so we can figure out how to leave this place. I'm just trying to help you."

"And what if something happened to you?" Jisung crosses his arms, speaking down at Chenle in a condescending manner, which the latter doesn't appreciate at all. But at the same time, he knows he's guilty.

"I'm sorry."

The taller's face softens, and his glossy eyes blink a few times. "It's fine." He says at last. "You're here now, so let's go back and get ready for bed, yeah? Thank you for worrying about me, Lele." Jisung reaches out with a weak arm and teasingly ruffles Chenle's hair. He then takes the sack from his hands and moves inside. 

And all Chenle can do is watch with a small tint on his cheeks, but he's still happy with what he'd done.


	7. NOT ALONE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> at least they have each other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoy hurt-induced fluff before the storm

The sound of a dangling chain rings through Chenle's ears louder than he thought possible, and the footsteps approaching his head become more vicious. His ear drums begin to rip at the unpleasant noise, and Chenle gets goosebumps layering his skin. Alas, all he can do is lay there. Lay there and await the torture that is to come.

That familiar feeling returns to his stomach and rushes up to his throat. Chenle wants to puke. He wants to let loose and spill his guts all over the polished floor beneath him, but his mouth is sewn shut with the threads of fright. The heavy boulder presses down on Chenle's chest. It's hard to breathe, so he gasps.

The darkness around the room engulfs the small boy, and soon, the chains are entangled around his frail body. His wrists, his ankles— it's all pushing against his force as he tries his hardest to get up and break free. Chenle is terrified, but he can't do anything about it. Tears begin to stream down his face. They're hot and wet and salty, and Chenle's lungs are collapsing. He's struggling for air, but all he's met with is the thick atmosphere that clogs his throat.

Somewhere over the horizon, the hideous view of what can only be described as a monster is clear through his crying. Chenle should be quiet, he should be nimble, but he’s in agony. He squeals and hyperventilates like some kind of animal being hunted down in the wild. It charges at him, seeming larger with every step— and Chenle feels faint at the acknowledgment of its expression. It’s morbid, unworldly.

The ground starts to shake violently as Chenle drifts into unconsciousness. He's slipping, falling. Chenle's entire frame is being swept up in a strong wave of forceful shoving about the floor. He’d be able to hear his bones crack if he wasn’t wailing. His sobs break from his lips like the call of a wolf, and his eyes are a raw, red mess.

"Chenle!" A voice calls from somewhere that doesn't feel real. The shout is distant yet near at the same time, but maybe Chenle's perception is distorted by his terror. He looks around.

And then it ends.

"Chenle!"

He shoots up, bending at the waist on the bedroom floor, and his clothes are soaked with what appears to be a gross mixture of accumulated sweat and fresh tears. The oversized pajama shirt hangs down from his shoulders loosely, creasing in front of his shoulders, which feels a lot lighter now for some reason. But he continues to cry regardless. He's shaking like a leaf that blows in the autumn wind.

Chenle is brought in by a pair of arms that he recognizes— Jisung's. He can tell by the size and the smell.The boy hits bluntly against the side of Jisung's chest, where a curved hand then meets the other side of his head and caresses it softly.

Jisung’s shirt becomes wet as Chenle's cries stain the fabric, his hands twisting and twirling as he clutches on for dear life. He's so terribly scared, but Jisung doesn't quite know what to do, so he sits there— rocking back and forth with Chenle pressed against him.

"Breathe." Jisung reminds him, using a few fingers to unglue the bangs away from Chenle's forehead while his other hand rubs hypnotic circles into his back. "Slowly, Lele. Right now, you're here with me. You're okay, we're okay. Take it slow."

He doesn't show it on the outside, but Jisung is secretly freaking out too. Some people are naturally gifted when it comes to comforting those who are in distress— but unfortunately, Park Jisung isn't one of them. He's awkward, and never quite knows what to say. But he assumes he's doing a good job this time, because Chenle comes back to reality and hushes himself to weak sniffles within minutes.

"I'm— I'm so sorry..." Chenle lowers his head, embarrassed with his sudden outburst. To be truthful, he isn't certain on what even caused his 'episode.' The only thing he remembers is waking up from an awful nightmare, next thing he knew, Jisung was sitting in front of him on his knees.

Jisung furrows his eyebrows. "Sorry for what? It's not a problem for me. I just wanted to make sure you were okay." He clarifies.

They make eye contact, and Chenle notices that Jisung’s eyes are just as glossy as his own, but for a different reason.

That's when Chenle realizes.

"Oh my god you're still sick!" He exclaims, quickly scooting away and feeling terrible at the discovery that his state of panic had lured Jisung out of his much-needed rest.

Jisung flashes a meek grin, the bags underneath his eyes dimming with the familiar hue of exhaustion. He's not feeling all that bad, really, but his body is still exhausted from the constant fight throughout the previous day. He will admit though, the medicine Chenle bought seems to help tons.

"I'm okay. My fever is gone." He tries to reassure, but to no avail. He had only recently noticed that Chenle can be quite stubborn at times. Jisung's glad that he's starting to come around. The tension between them has began to crumble, which is somewhat scary on its own.

Chenle shakes his head. "No, you need to go back to bed. Don't worry, I'll lay down too." He says, standing and holding out a hand for Jisung to grab onto. Jisung only stares at him (and truthfully, Chenle's scolding kind of makes him miss his mom.)

Clasping his fingers cautiously, Jisung grows shy as he accepts the hand and gets up. Chenle's skin is smooth and pale, and Jisung feels like if he holds on for too long, it'll break and become tainted with his own touch. Yet, for some reason, he yearns to feel more. Maybe it's because of their secluded circumstances, but Jisung wants to know that Chenle's close— even while he sleeps. Not in a weird way or anything, though.

"Hey, what if we..." Jisung begins to suggest, but his voice trails off as a familiar warmth rushes to the sides of his face. His voice is drained from his body, and in response, Chenle only tilts his head. And _oh my lord does he look adorable like that_. Jisung observes.

"Hm?"

His heart does a flip.

"It can be my way of getting even." Jisung chuckles, referencing how Chenle's nightmare woke him up at god knows what hour. Using humor to cope with his timid habits tends to help a majority of the time, but he can't stop blushing while standing there and tryinghelplessly to word his thoughts. "I usually wouldn't offer this but y'know since I'm sick and all..." He continues quietly.

Chenle waits for him to go on.

"Can you— um— can you maybe cuddle me?" Jisung stutters at last, the highest point of his cheeks remaining a flustered, red disaster.

It sounds peculiar coming from a boy that's quite a bit taller than Chenle, and he doesn't know what to say. A small 'oh' is the only thing he's able to get out. Jisung grows slightly more panicked at the imagery of a hesitant Chenle, and he wants to take back his offer.

"I won't cough on you or anything, I swear." Jisung begins to backtrack, eating up his words quicker than it took him to spit them out. Damn it, Jisung. "And usually I'd offer to be the big spoon but I— unless you'd rather sleep separately.... I understand that. I just kind of hoped—" His ranting gets cut short with a chuckle.

"Jisung." Chenle laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling sweetly (a nice change, considering how they’d been filled with tears earlier)— and Jisung can tell he needed a laugh like this. He just wishes it wasn't under these terms. At his own expense. “Go." Chenle says, wiping an amused tear from his face.

Disappointed and ashamed, Jisung nods slowly and then climbs onto the bed. He faces away from Chenle in order to spare even more embarrassment. Jisung hadn’t been so humiliated in a while, and forgot how bad it was. Thus, he tries to curl up, pulling his knees towards his chin.

Why did he even ask? Of course Chenle was going to say 'no' to his ridiculous request. Is this what rejection feels like? It was rare for Jisung to step out on a limb, so he couldn't tell.

Still, the younger boy closes his eyes tight and tries his hardest to disappear into thin air.

That is, until he hears the floorboards creak quietly and then the mattress underneath him dips a little. Seconds later, a shy arm is thrown over the thinnest part his waist, and (what he assumes is) Chenle's leg hikes up onto his hips from behind. Jisung's eyes bolt open at the contact and he's more awake than he'd been in years.

"I feel short." Chenle comments in a small and strained voice, breath fanning against the back of Jisung's ear. The latter simpers, tensing under Chenle’s fingertips gripping onto him.

"Because you are." Jisung retorts cooly, to which he receives a small hit over the head. He giggles. It’s fun having the ability to be playful. It feels like he’s being himself for once.

The small boy cuddles into Jisung's back, and the hairs stand up on his skin. He's not sure if it's because of the change of temperature or because he loves the lack of distance between them, but it takes him by surprise. Chenle's expression is hidden behind Jisung's body, but his quiet behavior hints that he doesn't notice.

The embrace feels nice, and it's nearly impossible for Jisung to resist the familiar, shy smile crawling onto his lips— so, he doesn't bother.

Being lonely for a long time can really make someone touch-deprived, he supposes, and that's his reasoning for this odd sensation rushing over him. He hadn't expected it beforehand, but he likes— loves, actually— being held. He loves knowing there's someone out there who would be so gentle with him. Jisung hasn't faced much mercy in his life. Everything he knew up until now was a ruthless struggle.

_Having to grow up instead of being raised._

This is a breath of fresh air, in a way.

"I've never really cuddled anyone before." Chenle's awkwardness break the silence and causes Jisung to giggle lowly. He can vividly picture Chenle fumbling with his nails and getting red in the face with that tone.

"I've never really been cuddled before." Jisung admits, curiosity piquing at the small ‘what?’ that erupts from behind him.

"Seriously? You're so soft though." Chenle remarks, digging his fingers just a little deeper into the pajama fabric covering Jisung's stomach— but not too much. "And you— kinda smell nice. Teddy bear Sungie." He dubs, closes his eyes, and hums at once. It’s almost comical.

"Koala bear Lele." Jisung mutters, grabbing the arms around him and holding onto them like some kind of support beam. "You should tell me a story from your life back home." He prompts, hoping to hear something that'll soothe his ears in return.

"I'm not very interesting, but I can try." Chenle shrugs, looking around the room while ideas sprout inside that big brain of his.

"Well, I think you're interesting."

Those words are the only encouragement Chenle needs to talk for what feels like hours. He gabs enthusiastically until Jisung is sure the older's jaw will fall off, but it never does. They both lay there, and Chenle thinks that maybe this is the closest he’s been to home all this time— because it gives a similar comfort. Home is where the heart is, and right now, Chenle’s heart is pressed into Jisung’s back, pounding furiously. It’s so loud that he can feel the pressure in his ears, but he likes it.

Fortunately, Jisung never picks up on this. The lids of his eyes hang low as he drifts in and out of a hope-fueled dream.

What he does hear is Chenle's speech slurring as he also falls asleep. Some of his words become unintelligible noises, and Jisung holds back a laugh or a teasing remark.

"Are you still listening?" Chenle manages to peek forward a bit with a tired whisper, looking to see if Jisung even had the ability to respond anymore.

"Hm? Yeah, of course." Jisung sniffs and shuffles a little, adjusting his side that drills into the mattress.

Chenle yawns. “You should tell me a story now."

Jisung breaths in and then exhales, resulting in a small cough to launch from his throat. His eyes trail over the wall and to the ceiling while recalling an event from his childhood. Though, it serves as a challenge because his younger years weren’t all that exciting— in fact, he spent most of them cooped up at home by himself, and he found it difficult to bond with the kids at school. Something about him had been too different, and they didn’t like that.

Unlike Chenle, he doesn’t continuously check in the middle of his story to make sure the other boy is paying attention. Though, Jisung is certain he’s speaking directly to the draft in their room at this point with the lack of input.

At the end of his spiel, Jisung turns around to see that Chenle is, indeed, fast asleep. The former twists his arm to grab on to the sheets and pull them over Chenle’s body slowly to keep him warm, and Jisung tucks him in to the best of his ability. It’s a cute sight, so of course he smiles once more.   


But his smile slowly lowers into a frown.  
  


He likes Chenle, and it’s really a shame.


End file.
